Dueling Destinies
by infantamagdalena
Summary: A write through of the Bioware game Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic. Featuring F!Revan/Carth Onasi
1. Prologue

Bastila looked down at her feet as the lift zoomed towards the bridge of the ship. She slowly curled and uncurled her fist as she repeated the Jedi Code over and over in her head. This was her moment to prove herself worthy to the Jedi Council.

There were several Jedi accompanying her, yet they all kept to themselves. The closer they got to the bridge, the more tension filled the air. Although no one wanted to mention it, they could all feel the dark energy permeating the Force. Revan was more powerful than they had anticipated and it was going to take all their strength to defeat him.

Suddenly, the lift jolted to a halt. Bastila maintained her balance and quickly used the Force to pull the doors open. She scrambled out and heard her companions follow suit. Sitting calmly at the end of the bridge was their nemesis.

He stood up and walked towards them.

Summoning all of her courage and begging her voice not to quiver, Bastila spoke. "You cannot win, Revan."

Without responding, Revan stood up and ignited a blood-red lightsaber. With his free hand, he Force choked two of her companions. His powers were so great that they dropped to the ground instantly, their necks broken.

Bastila looked at the two remaining Jedi and was pleased to see that they were standing their ground, albeit with terrified expressions on their faces.

Revan waited calmly at the end of the bridge, waiting for Bastila to make her move. She closed her eyes and searched through the Force. The battle was being waged fiercely and she could sense that the Republic was starting to tip towards the losing side.

Bastila had a choice to make. She could either focus her Battle Meditation skill on helping the Republic fleet gain an advantage or she could use it on herself and her companions in their duel with Revan.

Before she had the chance to make the decision, a large explosion rocked the ship. Her two companions were knocked off their feet and landed against the wall with a sickening crunch. She struggled to stand up and noticed that she was the only one to do so. Bastila rushed over to Revan and ripped his mask off.

It took Bastila a moment to compose herself from the shock. Instead of man, an unconscious woman lay beneath the mask.

She was tan with dark brown hair, matted with blood and sweat. There was a large gash on her head and it was bleeding profusely. Bastila searched through the Force, hoping to feel this woman's life. It was there, but only a delicate flicker. In moments, she would be dead. Summoning all of her strength, she grasped onto that spark of life and held tight.

Her mission was to bring Revan back to the Jedi Council alive. Bastila refused to fail.

The last few days had been a whirlwind for Bastila. She hadn't had enough strength to use her Battle Meditation power after saving Revan's life. Thankfully, a back-up team had arrived and the two were taken off the ship. They were the only survivors.

Bastila found out later that it had been Revan's apprentice, Malak, who had fired on his master. Such was the way of the Sith.

The rescue ship rushed them to the Temple on Coruscant and Bastila was immediately placed in the recovery ward. She was discharged after a few days; her wounds were more mental than physical. Naturally, the moment she left, the Jedi Council summoned her. Bastila was exhausted, but she had no choice.

When she entered the room, she was shocked to see that the entire council was standing in front of her. Bastila took a deep breath and walked towards them. There were a few familiar faces; the council from Dantooine was also present. Things must have been serious if both councils had been summoned.

Bastila reached the center of the room and stood with her hands behind her back. "You asked to see me?"

Master Vandar stood up from his seat and smiled. "We did, Padawan Shan. First of all, we wanted to thank you for all of the work during the battle. It could not have been easy. Especially with your saving Darth Revan. A lesser person would have left her for dead. But you saved her life."

Despite her training, Bastila was slightly disappointed that Revan had survived. Yes, she had completed her mission to keep the woman alive, but part of her believed that the galaxy would have been far better off with such a malevolent force dead. She quickly pushed the thoughts away and nodded her head.

Vandar continued. "Currently, Revan is healing in the recovery ward. Only the nurse and the people in this room know that she is Darth Revan. Everyone else is under the impression that she perished on the ship."

Before Master Vandar could continue, Master Vrook interrupted. "Are we sure that this is the right idea? Who says that history will not repeat itself?"

Within seconds, the Council erupted into loud arguments. The masters were all waving their hands and speaking loudly to get their points across.

Bastila was shocked. This was the first time that she had ever seen disorder amongst the masters. When it showed no sign of slowing down, Bastila cleared her throat. They didn't seem to hear her, so she shouted, "Excuse me?"

Suddenly, all of the arguments stopped. The masters who had left their chairs slowly sat back down, their faces red with embarrassment. Master Vandar was the first one to speak. "You must excuse our actions, Padawan Shan. This subject is very delicate."

Bastila nodded. "If you don't mind me asking, sir, what was all of this commotion about?"

"You see, Padawan Shan, there are some on the Council who see Revan's survival as a gift. Our enemy has been handed to us and we could use this as an advantage to end this horrible war."

She was shocked at what she heard. The Council surely could not be suggesting what she thought they were? After all of the death and destruction that she had caused, Bastila did not see how it could possibly make sense. However, she knew her place and that did not involve questioning the Council's decision.

A woman with white-blonde hair spoke next. "Well, I for one, think this is a terrible idea! Who knows what the consequences could be?"

"Atris, this is our chance to see the Sith plans! With their seemingly endless supplies, they are practically guaranteed to win this war! If we can find out how they are accomplishing this, then we will have the upper hand," Master Vandar said slowly.

Despite her personal feelings, Bastila could see the genius of the plan. Turn their own enemy to their side with no one the wiser. It would be complicated, but if successful, it would save the galaxy.

Three hours later, Bastila was finally dismissed from the Council chambers. She was exhausted and could begin to feel a migraine starting behind her eyes. All she wanted to do was go to sleep, but she knew that there was one last thing that she had to do before she could rest.

Bastila made her way to the medical ward. No one gave her a second look as she navigated the twisting hallways. Finally, Bastila found the nondescript door that Master Vandar had described. She punched in the lock code and entered into a dimly lit hallway.

When she reached the end there was another door, but it wasn't locked. Bastila twisted the knob and was shocked by what she saw. There was a kolto tank in the center of the room with a woman floating inside.

Without all of her armor on, Revan looked small and insignificant. She was short, only about a meter and a half tall. Her black hair was long, floating wild in the kolto. Her tan skin was marred by bruises. In this state, Bastila almost felt sorry for her.

She walked over and placed her hands on the glass tank. "Why, Revan? Why did you cause all of this death and destruction? I have heard of you and your time with the Jedi. You were on a path to greatness and you gave it all up for this?"

Despite mentally repeating the Jedi Code, Bastila started to cry. She sunk to the floor and gathered her knees up to her chest.

What the council had instructed her to do seemed impossible and she was overwhelmed. Being given responsibility had been nothing new to Bastila. Ever since her Battle Meditation power had been discovered, the Masters had paid particular attention to her. However, this time it seemed to be too much. If she succeeded, then the war would end. But, if she failed, the consequences would be dire.

Bastila sat there for a long time, pressed up against the glass. Slowly, she was able to calm herself down and meditate. All along, she had known that it was her duty to perform the task that the Council had assigned her, but it was a difficult pill to swallow. All Bastila wanted to do was succeed, but she wasn't so sure she could.

As she stood up and walked away, Bastila took one last look at the woman in the tank. "We can do this," she whispered.

What Bastila failed to notice as she left the room was the single tear that rolled down Revan's face.

It dissolved quickly in the kolto, leaving no trace of its existence.


	2. Chapter 1

Magdalena Tetra attempted to rub the sleep from her eyes, but wasn't entirely successful. _Just one more document, and then I will call it a night_, she thought to herself.

She pulled the next item from the top of the stack and began reading it. For once, the message that she was translating seemed to be important. After completing the translation, Mag saved it onto a blank datapad and rushed off to deliver it to the Jedi.

Commander Carth Onasi was frustrated beyond belief. He had just left a meeting with Admiral Dodonna and things had not gone the way he had wanted them too. As he walked down the hallway, he was consumed by his thoughts.

Carth was sick of playing the role of on-board adviser to the Jedi. Bastila Shan may possess the extraordinary power of Battle Meditation, but she was a young and inexperienced Padawan. She had limited battle experience and no leadership training. It was a nightmare.

As he turned the corner, Carth didn't see the young woman approaching him. The two collided. The woman, being much smaller than him, hit the floor. Carth was worried until he heard the woman laughing. He offered her a hand and then helped her to her feet.

After she stood up, she began brushing the dirt off of her pants. "Thank you, Commander Onasi. I apologize for running into you. I was in such a hurry to find the Jedi that I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."

"It's quite alright, Miss…" Carth flushed. He was a commander that always prided himself on knowing the names of all of his crew members. However, he couldn't seem to place hers.

"Tetra, sir. My name is Mag Tetra. Everything is fine, sir. Actually, I am working as a translator for the Jedi and I believe that I may have found something important."

He nodded. "If you don't mind, Miss Tetra, would you quickly explain what the contents of the documents are?

Mag began to speak, but an announcement over the loud speaker interrupted her. "Commander Onasi to the bridge. Repeat: Commander Onasi to the bridge."

Carth resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he calmly turned to Mag and asked her if she would mind accompanying him to the bridge. He was quite curious about the woman he'd forgotten as well as the documents she carried.

Mag nodded and followed him down the corridor.

He turned to her and asked, "How long have you been with the Jedi, Miss Tetra?"

"You can call me Mag, sir. I actually haven't been with them for long. Bastila contacted me a couple of days before the ship docked in Coruscant. I was in between jobs and figured my language skills could do some good."

Before Carth could ask Mag what she usually did for a living, they reached the bridge. He pushed open the door and saw that it was filled with both crew members and the Jedi.

Bastila stepped forward and said, "Commander Onasi, I am glad that you are here. We have a bit of a situation."

Carth swallowed and nodded, knowing if he spoke, it would only be sarcastic. Of course there was a situation; otherwise he wouldn't have been paged to the bridge.

Bastila continued. "The computer systems seem to be indicating that there is a Sith ship floating around nearby, coming dangerously close to our path. However, there seems to be no way to change our course without giving away our position."

With that statement, an argument erupted in the bridge between the Jedi and military personnel. Mag rolled her eyes and tried to stop the fighting, but nobody would listen. Knowing that there was no reason for this to be happening, besides tensions running high, she stood up on a chair, put her two index in her mouth, and let out a loud whistle.

Everyone immediately stopped speaking.

"Listen: the longer we keep fighting, the closer we are to getting intercepted by the Sith ship and the less time we have to perform evasive action," Mag called out to everyone.

One of the navigators sitting near the chair that Mag was standing on sneered and asked, "Who the hell is she?"

Several others were nodding their heads in agreement. Carth, using his best commander's voice, spoke up in her defense. "She is translator who is working with the Jedi. But at the moment, that doesn't matter. What matters is that she is right."

The same navigator spoke up. "Well, what does she know then? If she is just a translator?"

Mag, thoroughly insulted, stepped down off the chair, and made her way to one of the navigation computers. "Well, I know that in less than ten minutes, we will have traveled too far down our path to make a safe backtrack or an evasive maneuver. I also know of an alternate route that will be able to get us safely away without setting us too far off course."

She opened up a set of different star charts and began plotting out a new course. Within a few moments, she displayed her handiwork to the crowd.

There were several cries claiming that it was an unknown route. Mag crossed her arms and smirked. "Of course it's unknown to the military; it's an old smuggler's route."

Carth, who had remained quiet for most of the exchange, raised an eyebrow. "And how exactly would you know about this path, Mag?"

She flashed him a quick smile before her face turned serious. "Does that really matter at the moment, Commander? It could be the only viable option we have at this point."

Once again, a whole new set of arguments erupted. Every one in the bridge was offering their own suggestion on what to do. Mag, realizing that there was nothing else that she could offer, quietly slipped out of the room. As she left, she couldn't help but to think that there was a reason that the Republic was losing the damn war.

The Endar Spire lurched and, before Mag's half-asleep body could react, she cracked her head on the night stand. Cursing, she attempted to stand up, but fell over again when the ship swayed violently. _Well, they clearly didn't take my advice,_ she thought as she managed to stand up.

After quickly putting on her clothes and gathering up her things, Mag rushed over to the door. When it didn't open automatically, she pushed the manual override button. Again, nothing happened. She swore and opened up the electric panel to see if she could do anything from inside. After several minutes and several electrical shocks later, Mag had still not managed to make any progress.

Luckily, only moments after she had sat back down on her bunk and resigned herself to dying alone, the door slid silently open.

Mag jumped up, blaster in one hand, a vibroblade in the other. She nearly fired, but stopped herself. "Damn it, Trask! I almost shot you!"

"Well, I'm glad you didn't!" Trask said, hovering in the doorway. "C'mon, we have to get going, the ship is under attack."

Mag wanted to come back with a snide comment, but held her tongue. There was time for banter later. She followed Trask out of the room and was about to ask him what exactly was happening, but his comm link went off before she could say anything.

"This is Commander Carth Onasi. All remaining personnel need to make their way to the escape pods. Repeat: all remaining personnel to the escape pods."

"Damn. If the commander says it's bad, it is _bad_!" Trask growled.

Mag nodded and continue to follow Trask down the corridor. They proceeded with caution because they could hear the torrent of blaster fire. But as careful as they were, they ended up in the middle of the melee.

As they dodged for cover, Mag fired a shot over her shoulder. All it hit was the wall. She suddenly remembered why she didn't like blasters.

Thankfully, Trask was a much better shot than her. He quickly picked off two of the Sith. Suddenly, they heard a scream to their right: the last of their allies had been killed.

Panicking, Mag turned to Trask. "Cover me."

He nodded and raised his blasters. Mag rolled out from behind the wall and unsheathed her vibrosword. The Sith soldiers were too distracted by Trask's blaster bolts to notice her. She used this to her advantage and quickly stabbed one in the back.

As his body sunk to the ground, the two remaining Sith turned to face her. She moved quickly. Mag slashed one across the back of the leg, making him an easy target for Trask. The second soldier proved a little trickier because he had had time to withdraw his blade while Mag was attacking his companion.

The two dueled fiercely. Unfortunately, they were moving too quickly for Trask to get off a clean shot. After several heated minutes, Mag gained the upper hand. But, just as she was about to stab the Sith soldier in the neck, he drew his blade across her stomach. Despite the pain that roared through her abdomen, Mag still managed to jam her blade into him. Both sank to the ground.

After checking that all the Sith were dead, Trask rushed over to Mag. "Are you alright?" he asked while fishing around in his kit for a kolto patch.

She waved him aside. "It's just a cut, nothing too serious. We don't have time to fix it, we have to keep moving."

Trask nodded, but there was a skeptical look in his eyes. "If you insist. By the way, that was some pretty fancy footwork back there. But what could you _possibly _have been thinking; jumping into the middle of a fire fight like that?"

Mag laughed gently, trying not to jostle her wound. "What can I say? I'm terrible with a blaster!"

The two continued on their path, occasionally fighting of groups of Sith soldiers. When they finally made it to the bridge, Trask turned to Mag. "I'm going to switch to my vibroblade, using a blaster in such cramped quarters is just asking for trouble."

She was glad he had thought of it and turned to watch their backs as he switched weapons.

Once he was ready, Trask moved to open the door. He counted up to three and it slid open.

The two were greeted by a large group of Sith soldiers. They rushed in and began fighting for what seemed like hours, but in reality was only minutes.

Mag stabbed, parried, and feinted desperately, simply trying not to die. Between the wound on her head and the gash on her abdomen, she was tiring quickly. When the last Sith was killed, she slid to the floor.

Trask rushed over and was concerned when he saw the blood spreading across her shirt. "Mag, we really should patch you up. You look like hell."

She waved him aside again. "We don't have time for that. We need to get to the escape pods before it is too late!"

Although he didn't like it, Trask knew there was no point in arguing with her. So he helped her to her feet and they made their way to the door. Suddenly, Mag stopped in her tracks. "Trask, is there another way we can go? I don't know why, but I really don't think we should go this way."

Mag couldn't describe what the feeling was, but she knew it was bad. Oily, dark, and disturbing.

Trask shook his head. "If we have a chance at making it to the escape pods in time, this is the best route."

As soon as he finished speaking, the doors slid open. Behind them stood a tall, bald man wearing black armor. Without saying a word, he ignited a red, double-bladed lightsaber.

Trask, knowing what he had to do, tossed his comm link to Mag. He withdrew his blaster and barreled through the door, yelling "For the Republic!"

The doors slid shut.

Mag rushed up and slammed her hands against them. Her head was spinning from the situation and the loss of blood. She yelled Trask's name, but she didn't hear him answer. Soon, she couldn't hear anything at all on the other side of the door.

The turned around and pressed her back to the door, smudged and scratched by her hands. She couldn't remember anyone sacrificing themselves for her before and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. Taking a deep breath, she collected her thoughts. To keep Trask's sacrifice from being in vain, she started moving towards the escape pods.

The comm link crackled to life. "Trask, come in. This is Commander Onasi."

She gulped and waited a moment to reply. "Uh, Commander, this is Mag Tertra. Trask, uh, well, Trask is dead. It is just me now."

There was a brief period of silence. "That's a shame. Trask was good soldier." Another brief pause. "I was calling to warn you that two rooms down, there is a group of Sith soldiers. Five in total. You could try going around, but I don't think that you have enough time. The ship is barely hanging on."

"Well, Commander, I'm not really in shape to fight off five Sith by myself. I'll have to figure out something else."

Mag ended the call and walked as quietly as she could to the next room. The pain in her head and in her side was getting close to unbearable. She took a deep breath to try and clear the fog in her brain. It only helped a little.

She took a cursory glance around the room, searching for something that she could use to help her fight off the Sith soldiers. Mag spotted a broken droid in the corner.

She pulled off the panel covering its mechanisms, but quickly determined it was too damaged for her to repair on the fly.

Then Mag saw the computer in the middle of the room and moved on from the droid. First, she hacked into the video feed and saw the five sith soldiers in their metallic armor. "Perfect," she muttered to herself.

Next, she sliced her way into the ship's electronic mainframe and rerouted all of the electricity into the conduit into the room next door. Quickly, she switched back to the video feed. Mag watched with relief as the conduit exploded and electrocuted the Sith. All five dropped dead.

She moved quickly into the room, pausing briefly to loot their pockets for extra medpacks and credits before she left.

When Mag finally reached Carth, he raised an eyebrow as he took in her appearance. "Geez, you weren't kidding about not being in good shape. We've got to get going; into the pod."

He waited for Mag to crawl in before entering the pod himself. They did their best to maneuver around the cramped corners, Carth's knee accidentally bumping into the launch button and activating the small spacecraft.

He scrambled to buckle himself in, barely managing to do so before their vehicle rocketed to life. He glanced over at Mag, seeing that she was tugging frantically on her jammed seat belt.

He pulled against his own restraints, struggling to reach her. He pulled against the straps until they dug into his skin and bruised his shoulders, but he couldn't reach her.

As the pod entered the atmosphere, Mag was forced up out of her seat and struck her already-injured head on the instrument panel. Her body went sickeningly limp.

Helpless, Carth could only look on as she banged about the cabin and think that it was a lousy way to die.


	3. Chapter 2

Carth was extremely thankful that the escape pod crashed into a street on the night side of the planet. The darkness, combined with the chaos of the crash, allowed him to pull his unconscious companion from the wreckage and find a safe place for them to hide.

He attempted to move far into the city and away from the crash site, carrying Mag all the while, but he knew he had to stop when he realized Mag's breathing was getting continually more shallow. Glancing around, he spotted a sign that advertised a clinic about half a kilometer away and decided to head towards it.

When he reached the entrance, a worried attendant quickly rushed them into a back room. Carth gently laid Mag onto the examination table and waited for a doctor to come in.

Moments later, there was a knock on the door. A middle-aged man with dark skin and gray hair introduced himself as Dr. Zelka Forn. "What exactly happened to your friend here? Could you show me where she is injured?" he asked with genuine concern. "There is a lot of blood."

Carth gestured vaguely. "She, was uh, hit by some flying debris from the escape pods that just crashed into the city."

The doctor raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything. Carth ran a hand through his hair, he had never been good at lying on the spot. He continued. "She hit her head hard and there is also a long cut across her abdomen."

Walking over to the counter, Dr. Forn nodded and grabbed a pair of medical shears and began cutting Mag's shirt away. Carth almost gasped out loud when he saw the maze of scars that criss-crossed across her torso. What kind of life had she lead before joining Bastila's crew as a mere translator?

He watched as the doctor cleaned the dried blood away. He knew that some would have a hard time watching the gruesomeness, but after a career in the military it took a lot more gore to faze him.

"Thankfully, it looks a lot worse than it actually is," the doctor announced, stepping back to dispose of his bloodied rags. "The wound on her stomach is shallow - not much more than a cut - and it doesn't appear to be caused by a poisoned blade. I'm going to stitch it up and apply a kolto bandage just to be safe."

With his skilled hands, it only took a couple of minutes to finish attending to the gash. After he was done, he washed his hands and proceeded to examine the one on her head. He moved her matted hair and pulled out a flashlight. When the light clicked on, he tsked and began mumbling to himself.

Carth asked what was wrong, but Dr. Forn ignored him.

The doctor walked over to the intercom on the wall. "Guerney, please get the imaging apparatus and bring it to room three. Thank you."

Dr. Forn turned to Carth and said, "It appears that your friend hit her head quite hard. I would like to take a look at her brain and make sure that there is no damage."

Carth nodded and watched as the assistant brought in large machine and helped Dr. Forn arrange the imaging scope by Mag's head. He stood back, watching the doctor turn the machine on and stare intently at the results as they came available. Carth became worried when the man got a puzzled look on his face.

"What is it, sir?"

Dr. Forn shook his head. "I've never seen a brain like this before. It was damaged in the past, but somehow put back together, almost like a puzzle. It is quite strange."

Carth pushed away his paranoia and asked if Mag was going to be okay.

"I'm not entirely sure," he mused, rubbing his chin with his hand. "I will clean it up, but to be honest, we will just have to wait until she wakes up to see."

Carth nodded and took a seat as the doctor set about his work. He leaned back against the wall while he watched the doctor bustle about. It took a long while and he found his eyes growing tired. When the doctor finally stepped back, finished, Carth shook his head to wake himself up.

"Now, you should be warned that there is no telling what her memory will be like when she wakes up," the doctor warned as he washed his hands. "Be gentle and when she does wake up, please bring her back to the clinic right away."

Carth nodded.

The doctor continued. "Now, I have a friend who owns an apartment complex just south of here. They aren't the nicest of places, but it will be a safe place to recover."

He wrote the address and the name of the manager on a piece of paper and handed it to Carth. "If you tell him that Zelka sent you, I'm sure he will give a deal."

Carth moved to shake Dr. Forn's hand. "I can't thank you enough for all you've done for us. I only have a few credits on me, but as soon as I have the money, I will pay you everything we owe for the treatment."

Dr. Forn waved his hand. "That is quite alright. We can discuss payment when you bring the young lady back to me. I never charge people more than they could afford."

Carth was shocked and touched by the kindness. He shook the doctor's hand again and moved to pick up Mag. Thankfully, she was light and the apartment complex wasn't too far. Dr. Forn escorted them out one of the back doors.

"Take this alley," he advised, motioning to the long, dark corridor that stretched out behind the medical building. "You should reach the apartment in no time and there will be a slim chance you will be seen by anyone who cares."

Carth nodded and set off. He walked to the apartment as fast as he dared for fear of jarring Mag too much. When he reached the complex, he found the manager and was quickly showing to a dingy set of rooms.

The door didn't lock. It smelled of mildew. The rent was ridiculous. But knowing that he had literally no other options, Carth paid and set Mag up in the bedroom.

After rewiring the door so that it could lock securely, Carth went through the small satchel that Mag had managed to escape the Endar Spire with.

Inside was a datapad, a small purse with a couple hundred credits in it, miscellaneous medical supplies, and some grenades. He tried to read the datapad, but it was heavily encrypted. Sighing, he pulled a stim out of his jacket pocket and injected himself. There was no telling when she would wake up.

**Eighteen Hours Later**

Her nightmares were terrible. That much he could tell. Ever since Carth had laid her down on the bed, she had been thrashing around and moaning. He had tried to wake her up, but to no avail. He settled for just keeping an eye on her in the hopes of preventing her from injuring herself even more.

He wrung his shaky hands, hoping that she would wake on her own soon because he wasn't sure how many more stims his body could take.

Thirty minutes after taking his last stim, Carth noticed a change in Mag's sleeping patterns. She became oddly silent. As he walked over from where he'd been leaning against the wall, she started whimpering and sobbing. Worried, he sat on the edge of her bed, but was unsure of how to proceed.

That problem was suddenly solved when Mag shot up, wide awake. Before Carth could react, she reached over and un-holstered his blaster. Pointing it directly at his face, she shouted. "Who the hell are you? If you are a Sith, I _swear_ I will pull this trigger faster than you can say Sithspit."

She caught the look of surprise on his face, but still didn't lower the weapon.

"Woah, hold on." Carth held his hands up in surrender. "If I were a Sith, I would have killed you already. I wouldn't have carried you up here and made sure you were safe. Don't you remember who I am?"

Mag's resolve wavered for a brief moment. She debated internally, but finally lowered the weapon and handed Carth his blaster back. "I apologize," she said, searching her memory to place his face. "You're, um, Commander Onasi, right?"

He looked alarmed. "Mag, are you alright? You should know who I am! We met yesterday on the Endar Spire. We ran into each other, quite literally, in the hallway? Do you remember anything?"

She blinked a few times and then she shut her eyes tightly. "Uh, your name is Carth, we were on a ship together, there was a battle, and then there was an escape pod. Other than that, I've basically got nothing."

Carth stared at her for just a moment too long.

_Force, he's paranoid, _Mag thought to herself.

"Your memory problems probably have something to do with that nasty bump on your head," he offered by way of explaining her memory loss.

"What," Mag asked as she gingerly touched her head. "_OW_!"

Suppressing the urge to laugh, Carth stood up and offered Mag his hand. "That's my cue. We're going back to the doctor."

Mag crossed her hands over her chest. "Not until I have had a nice, long, hot, shower."

"Good luck with that, so far it's only been ice cold water." He smirked. He'd tried to clean himself up a few times, but he'd decided against it when he found himself unable to coax any temperature other than _ice cold _out of the shower head.

But she was, apparently, made of tougher stuff that he was. Either that, or she was just plains stubborn. She lifted herself off the bed and Carth heard what he thought was a Rodian curse as she stomped off towards the 'fresher.

He shook his head. He had a feeling that she was going to be a handful. The thing was, Carth wasn't so sure that he minded.

An hour later, Mag emerged from the 'fresher. Although the water had been cold, she had gritted her teeth and scrubbed away. It had felt wonderful to get the dried blood and sweat off of her body. When she entered the living room, she was surprised to find Carth dozing on the couch.

Mag tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey flyboy, wake up. We apparently have a doctor's appointment?"

He awoke with a start. "Uh, sorry. I haven't slept since the night before the battle."

"_What_?"

"Well, somebody had to keep watch while you were out cold," he said while rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

Mag nodded. "You do have a point. You really should get some rest; I already did, apparently. We're stranded here and we _both _need to be on the top of our game if we are going to ever get off this rock."

He brushed her concern aside. "I'll be fine. It's more important that we get you back to Dr. Forn and then start searching for Bastila."

"Hold up; _Bastila_? I may not remember much, but I do remember her. She is a spoiled Jedi princess. I'm sure she has already figured a way off this rock," Mag exclaimed.

"Geez, that bump on your head did more damage than I thought." Carth said, although he had to agree with the princess part.

He continued, hoping to appeal to her patriotic side. "Spoiled or not, she is the key to the entire war effort. We _have _to find her. Or at least make sure she is safe."

She was quiet for a moment and then sighed. "Alright fine, you got me. I'll help. But, let's be clear: I'm doing this for you, not her."

"For me?"

"Well, yeah. You saved me life and all. I don't take that lightly."

Carth was surprised, but he figured a yes was a yes. "Thank you, Mag. Now, let's get you to the doctor and then we can hit the cantina for some food."

Mag shook her head. "No, not until you at least get a couple of hours of sleep. I can't have you running on empty while you're supposed to be watching my back."

He rolled his eyes, but figured that it was pointless to argue with her. "Fine, but wake me up in two hours."

She nodded and watched him plod off towards the bedroom. Pleased that she had won, Mag sat down on the couch in the dilapidated living room and began organizing the contents of her pack.

**Six Hours Later**

Mag felt a hand touch her on the shoulder and she immediately leapt off the couch and onto her feet. She was reaching for her vibroblade when she saw that it was Carth and, instead of attaching, swore in a language that she knew he couldn't identify. "_Force_, Carth. I could have stabbed you or something!"

He chuckled. "Hardly. Nice job keeping watch and waking me up."

She shrugged her shoulders sheepishly. "You clearly needed the sleep."

Carth rolled his eyes while grabbing his hideous orange jacket off of a nearby chair. "Let's get going."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes back at his evident irritation. It wasn't her fault that they both needed to catch up on their sleep. Mag grabbed her own coat, now quite worn, and followed Carth out of their apartment.

Just as they exited, the duo encountered a group of Sith interrogating two aliens. Carth held up his arm to stop Mag, but it was too late.

The Sith spied them and sneered. "Humans hiding out with aliens? They must be Republic fugitives!"

Luckily for Carth and Mag, the Sith weren't very skilled and the skirmish was over almost as quickly as it started. After making sure that the one surviving alien was alright, they continued on their way to the clinic.

They walked in silence, but eventually it was too much for Mag. "So Commander…"

"Call me Carth."

"Okay, Carth. Tell me something about yourself. We're probably going to be stuck on this rock together for a while, we might as well get to know each other."

He turned to face her, the look of surprise badly disguised. "Me?

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, you, flyboy."

Carth tried to glare at her, but when he saw the genuinely interested look on her face, he stopped himself. He ran his hand through his hair and started. "Uh, I've been a pilot for twenty years. I fought in the Mandalorian Wars before this one. I thought the Mandalorians were bad, but the Sith are even worse. They kill senselessly, like on…" he caught himself.

"Like on what, Carth?"

Realizing that he had said so much, Carth had to continue. He looked pointedly away from her as he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "Like on Telos. My homeworld was bombed into submission. It was one of the first to go and there was absolutely nothing the Republic could do about it."

There was a few minutes of awkward silence until Carth worked up the nerve to look at his companion.

"Yes?" she asked when she noticed his gaze.

"People usually say something, that's all."

She nodded and shrugged her shoulders, not entirely sure how to respond to this revelation. "It wasn't your fault, Carth. There wasn't anything you could have done."

Surprised, Carth responded, his voice steady with anger. "I never said it was my fault. I did everything I possibly could to stop it!"

Mag's eyes grew wide with shock, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she looked straight ahead and continued walking to the doctor's office in silence.

A few minutes later, they reached the doctor's office. They walked through the sliding doors and Carth asked the assistant if they could see Dr. Forn. The man told that them the doctor was available and escorted them to an exam room and informed them that the doctor would be in in just a few minutes.

The assistant exited the room, leaving Mag and Carth to sit in their strained silence. Both wanted to say something, but neither knew how to start after the way the previous conversation had ended.

Luckily, Dr. Forn entered the room before either one had to talk. "Ahh, I'm glad to see you up and moving around."

Mag smiled. "Yeah, me too."

The doctor chuckled and began performing his examination. After a few minutes and the application of some kolto, Dr. Form declared that Mag was going to be okay, but she had to take it easy. "I'm not sure if the memory problems will resolve itself, but it is possible. Head injuries are tricky."

Although she was sad about her memory, Mag was thankful that she was in good health otherwise. Carth paid the doctor what he could and the two exited the medical building.

"You know, it might be good to try and get some information at the cantina," she suggested once they were out on the street. "The alcohol will make lips looser and all."

Carth nodded, but didn't say anything. He felt bad for his outburst earlier, but he didn't know if there was any way for him to save face.

They entered the cantina and Mag wandered off in the direction of the bar. Carth attempted to follow her, but she stopped him. "Where do you think you are going, flyboy?"

"With you, obviously."

She shook her head. "Oh, no you don't. I'll never get any information with you following me around. Go play Pazaak and see if you can win us some credits."

As she walked off, Carth was left alone with his thoughts. _What in the hell did she mean by that?_

Still confused, he made his way over to the Pazaak table closest to the bar. Just because she wouldn't let him go with her, it didn't mean he wasn't going to keep an eye on her. Even though she seemed well-intentioned, Carth didn't trust her actions as far as he could throw her.

He settled into the game and, after three hands of cards, it finally dawned on Carth what Mag had meant. He'd watched as several men had approached her, but she had either waved them off or ignored them completely. There was another girl a few feet away from Mag who was sitting with a man. She hadn't been approached at all. Carth realized that, if he'd gone with Mag, she'd have had no chance to fish for information because no one would've bothered approaching her.

One of the players seated across from Carth followed his gaze. "You've got good taste, man," he leered. "After I clean you out of all your credits, I think I'll take a crack at her, myself."

The look that Carth shot him quickly caused the man to shut up and they resumed playing the game.

Mag was getting extremely irritated. The only men that had approached her so far were spoiled Tarisian nobles with breath that reeked of ale. Just as she was about to get up and fetch Carth so they could go, a young Sith officer sauntered over.

"Hey, I saw your drink was empty, so I took the liberty of getting you another."

She noticed his uniform right off the bat and gave him her most brilliant smile, tilting her head so that she looked at him in what she hoped was a coquettish manner. "Thank you."

He blushed. "Don't mention it. My name is Yun. What is yous?"

"I'm Amaria," Mag said, figuring her middle name was a lot safer than her actual one. It was possible that the Sith had found a flight manifest among the wreckage and would know the names of the crew of the Endar Spire.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Amaria," he said, resting his forearms on the bar. "You know, I'm pretty curious. What is a pretty thing like you doing on a scuzzy planet like this?"

Although all Mag wanted to do was roll her eyes and tell Yun to get lost, she gave him a slow smile. "Well, I got stranded with the quarantine. But, to be honest, I do feel a lot safer since the Sith took over control."

Yun's flush deepened. "You really think so? I honestly think you are the first person to say that."

"Oh sure. With all of the soldiers around, people think twice about harassing a girl," Mag purred. She reached over and ran her hand along his arm.

Yun gulped visibly and Mag did her best not to smile at his naiveté.

"Hey, look," she said while grabbing his arm. "A booth just opened up. Let's go sit over there."

Carth had been watching the scene unfold and he didn't like it one bit. On an impulse, he cashed out of the game and walked over to the booth.

When he arrived, Mag was leaning heavily against the young Sith officer and whispering something in his ear. Suddenly, the man casually brushed his hand across Mag's breasts. Carth saw red and decided that enough was enough. He cleared his throat loudly and slid into the booth across from them.

Mag and Yun pulled instantly apart.

Carefully, so that Yun wouldn't see, Mag shot Carth a venomous look. He shot one back at her and refused to budge.

Yun, upset that his moment had been ruined, demanded to know who this intruder was.

"Don't worry about him, Yun," she insisted, turning her body back to face the young man.. "He is somebody my father pays to keep an eye on me. But, I pay him to keep quiet. This quarantine can be quite boring at times." She raised one of her eyebrows seductively.

Yun seemed satisfied with Mag's answer. He moved to grope her again, but was interrupted by another person joining their booth. This time it was a pretty, blonde Sith officer. "Hey Yun, who are your new friends?"

"Good to see you Sarna," Yun said, barely giving her a glance. "This is my new friend Amaria and her bodyguard."

Sarna smiled at Mag and slid closer to Carth. "Wow, Amaria. Aren't _you _lucky to have this man guarding you."

Carth smiled at Sarna, which turned out to be a terrible idea. She was, apparently, just as handsy as Yun.

Mag almost burst out laughing when she saw Sarna's hand slip underneath the table and Carth visibly flinched. Then her smile fell when she realized just how heated things were getting. Neither Carth nor Mag knew how to back out gracefully.

Thankfully, they didn't have to. Yun caught sight of a clock and jumped up. "Sarna, if we don't get moving now, we are going to be late for our shift on base!"

Sarna swore and exited the booth as well, taking her leave and starting towards the door.

Yun turned to Mag. "Hey, a bunch of us are having a party after work tonight. I would really like it if you came."

Mag told him that she would love to come. Yun entered the address into her datapad. Then he and Sarna dashed out of the cantina.

As soon as the two Sith were out of earshot, Mag leaned her head back and let out a long sigh of relief. "Force, I'm glad those two are gone. That was a nightmare and a half."

Carth nodded, but couldn't find the words to reply.

Mag snickered a little, knowing exactly what moment he was trying to forget. He gave her an annoyed look. To avoid any more awkwardness, she quickly changed the subject. "So, flyboy, how many credits did you win at the tables?"

"Eh, about 200."

"Not bad, that should be enough to get us some new clothes for tonight."

Carth gave Mag a surprised look. "New clothes? At a time like this? You have got to be kidding me! And honestly, you can't be considering going to that party! That place is going to be crawling with Sith!"

"Exactly! Yun and Sarna may only be junior officers, but they will still have uniforms. We snag a couple of those and we basically have a free reign of the planet."

Although he didn't want to admit it, she had a point. "But why the clothes?"

Mag ran her hands through her hair then gestured to her own clothes that had been marred by the crash. "Geez, flyboy. You are such a man! You don't honestly think we can show up to a party in these, do you? They are disgusting from, well, you know what from." She was careful not to give too many details, lest someone overhear them. "Besides," she continued, "we need something to replace that revolting jacket of yours."

Carth crossed his arms protectively across his flourescent-orange chest and pouted. "I happen to like this jacket."

Mag smirked at him. "Yeah, it's nice. If you like something the color of bantha vomit."

They were saved from further argument when a waitress stopped by and asked if they wanted to order anything. Both ordered food and a stiff drink. It wasn't the best-tasting fare, but it was hearty. Mag and Carth ate hungrily, neither talking.

Finally, Mag pushed her plate back. "Well, that wasn't _too _horrible. But it wasn't good either. At least the drinks were strong."

Carth couldn't have agreed more. Nonetheless, it was nice that they had been able to eat. Mag tossed back the rest of her drink. "Alright, flyboy. Time to get going! We have shopping to do!"

A few hours later, Carth found himself sitting on the couch in their living room. He tugged on the sleeve on the new black jacket that Mag had made him buy. As much as he hated to admit it, he actually liked the garment, though the orange flight jacket would always be his favorite.

On the other hand, he did not like the shirt that Mag had insisted went with the coat. It made him feel stupid and it itched. He contemplated sneaking into the bedroom and switching it out when the 'fresher door opened.

Mag stepped out wearing the dark red tunic and black leggings that she had picked out. It was low-cut and fit her hips snuggly. She had taken her hair out of her normal braid and it fanned out in waves down her back. "So, what do you think?" she asked, turning left and right to show her outfit from all sides. "Is it okay?

It took Carth just a second too long to respond. "You look, uh, great, Mag."

Despite herself, Mag felt her cheeks heat up. "Thank you. You look nice, too. I'm glad you ended up buying the jacket."

Carth chuckled to cover up his embarrassment. He didn't want Mag to see that he was blushing from her compliment. "As if I had a choice! You refused to let me leave the store without it!"

"I guess that's true. By the way, Carth, I am really glad that you are coming to the party tonight."

He looked up at her in surprise. Carth had figured that she wouldn't be too happy about him tagging along after the look she gave him at the cantina earlier that day. "Why is that?"

Mag hesitated for a moment. "Well, you saw Yun at the cantina. He had a hard time keeping his hands to himself. I'm nervous about what he will do when he's been drinking and around his buddies. I mean, I can take care of myself and all, but I'm glad that I'll have you as back up."

Carth raised one eyebrow. "You know, just when I think I have you all figured out, you say something like that and confuse the hell out of me. Despite that, I do have your back. Promise."

She returned his smile. "You and me both, flyboy."

The two of them made sure that they had a few weapons tucked away out of sight and headed out the door. They wandered through the streets of the Upper City, getting turned around a couple of times. When they finally found the address, the party was in full swing.

When Carth pushed open the door, the smell of sweat mixed with Tarisan ale hit the pair like a slap in the face. It was utterly disgusting. Mag looked up at Carth, gave him a shaky grin, and went off to join the party. Waiting a few minutes so that they wouldn't be seen together, Carth followed her into the crowd.

The next twenty minutes seemed like the longest of Carth's life. The constant toasts the Sith soldiers were making to their victory in war was making him uncomfortable and irritated. And then there was Mag. Her incessant flirting and drinking were starting to wear his nerves thin. He was worried about her.

He had just about had it when she approached him. She grabbed his arm and pulled him into a dark corner.

"Carth, listen. I'm going to challenge that big Sith over there to a drinking game. His uniform looks like it should be able to fit you. When he passes out, offer to carry him to one of the bedrooms so that he can sleep it off. While you're back there, try and find one for me."

He blinked, but didn't say anything. To be honest, he was shocked by her plan. It didn't seem possible that it could actually work.

This irritated Mag, who was equally stressed and worn out by the last half-hour. "Did I stutter, flyboy?" she asked snipply.

"How are you still sober?" Carth snapped back at her. "I've watched you down a couple of bottles since we got here."

"Long story, I'll explain tomorrow. Please, just do it. This may be our only chance."

Before he could respond, Mag dashed off to find the man she intended to challenge. Carth shook his head; she was insane. There was no way she'd be able to drink him under the table. Regardless, he didn't really have a choice; he had to follow her because it was the only plan that they had.

He pushed his way through the crowd that was forming around the kitchen table. Mag was seated at one end while a man sat at the other. She was right; he was about the same size as him, so the uniform would fit.

In the center of the table, there was a couple of bottles of alcohol that Carth couldn't quite identify. But, even from his vantage point, he could smell their potency. Mag stared the man directly in the eye, and said, "Pick your poison."

The man chuckled and reached for one of the bottles. He took the top off and poured out three shots for Mag and three shots for himself. "Ladies first."

Mag smiled and easily drank the first shot. She flipped the glass upside down and set it at the table. Then, she looked up at her opponent. The man cockily tossed all of his shots in a row. Mag copied him without blinking an eye. Hesitating for only the slightest of moments, the Sith poured out three more shots for each of them.

This process continued for a quite some time. The pair had finished off the first bottle of liquor and were currently working on the second. Carth was getting nervous and frankly couldn't believe that Mag had been able to consume this much alcohol.

Finally, the Sith collapsed face first on the table. He was out cold. There was a triumphant cheer and one of the onlookers lifted Mag's arm above her head. After a few minutes of clapping, the drunken crowd got bored and dispersed to find entertainment elsewhere.

When this happened, Carth put Mag's plan into action. He casually strolled over to the man, put his arm around his own shoulder, and half carried, half dragged him to one of the bedrooms in the back of the apartment. He not-so-gently tossed the Sith on the bed and began awkwardly removing his uniform. Carth couldn't help but to chuckle to himself. Never in a million light years did he think he would be undressing a Sith.

After digging around for a little bit, Carth found an empty duffel bag and shoved the uniform into it. He then walked to the closet and looked for a uniform that would fit Mag. There were a few hanging up. He searched through them, measuring the length against his own body to find one that looked to be the right size.

It was difficult because of her height, but after several minutes of searching, Carth finally found one that was short enough. He put it in the duffel bag, threw it over his shoulder, and walked out of the bedroom and find Mag.

When he exited the room, Carth couldn't find her. After a few frantic minutes of scanning with his eyes, he finally heard her voice. "Yun, stop it! Not now!"

"But c'mon sweetheart. Just one little kiss?"

"NO!"

Carth rushed over and found that Yun had cornered her next to a crowded couch. He grabbed the young Sith by his shoulder and pulled him off Mag. "Get your hands off of her!" Carth growled.

Yun did not take this suggestion kindly. He reeled back and punched Carth in the face. However, there wasn't much power behind the drunken youth's swing and he was able to shake it off. But that didn't mean Carth wouldn't retaliate.

He landed a right hook on Yun's jaw and the Sith hit the floor. He was unconscious. Carth grabbed Mag's hand and pulled her to the front door. "Let's get out of here."

It took them a while to get back to their apartment. It wasn't just because of the winding back streets of Taris. The amount of alcohol that Mag had drank had finally caught up with her. She was giggly and kept tripping over her own feet. "Carth, stop walking so fast," she slurred almost beyond comprehension.

Carth stopped and turned to look at her. "I'm not walking too fast; you're too slow. We have to keep moving. We don't want to be caught out here."

He grasped her arm gently, yet firmly. "C'mon gorgeous."

Mag started giggling. "Awww, that is so sweet, flyboy. I think that deserves a kiss."

She stood up on her tip toes and leaned forward. But, she lost her balance and toppled to the ground. Carth chuckled and bent down next to her. He placed one of her arms around her shoulders and his arm underneath her knees. He stood up, making sure that he had a good grip.

By the time he made it back to their apartment, Mag was sound asleep. Carth shook the duffel bag from his shoulder and placed her carefully onto one of the beds, taking care not to wake her. He sat down on the edge of the other bed and unlaced his boots.

After kicking them off, Carth walked into the 'fresher to examine his hand. It was bruised and was crusted with blood. He wasn't sure if it was his or Yun's. Either way, he knew it would cause questions in the morning. After scrubbing the blood off, he looked at his face in the mirror. There was another bruise forming on his jaw where Yun had landed his punch. Sighing, Carth figured he would deal with it later. He walked back over to his bed and quickly fell asleep.


End file.
